"Roundheads and Ramblings"
March 2016
|
Posted on Thursday, March 31, 2016 1:30 PM
In A Scratch with the
Rebels, a new recruit named Gus Smythe represents the Confederate
experience. His father was the minister at the Second Presbyterian Church in
Charleston. The well-to-do family had shipped young Gus off to college in
Columbia in hopes of keeping him out of the war, but when the Confederacy
initiated a draft in March 1862, Gus and most of his friends decided to enlist
rather than wait. He had first enlisted in a company commanded by Captain
Alex Taylor, the father of one of his college friends, but in obedience to his
parents' wishes, he immediately requested a transfer to Company A, 24th South
Carolina Volunteer Regiment, Hagood's Brigade so that his older brother could keep
an eye on him.
By 21 March 1862, he was
a soldier in fact as well as in title, and was beginning to learn what
soldiering was really like. Although he was camped just a few miles from home,
he suffered from homesickness. His frequent letters to his mother give us a
good idea of what camp life was like for a new recruit. The following examples
appear in A Scratch with the Rebels, Chapter 5:
"Here we are, safe and
sound, tho' a little jaded by traveling & the labor of fixing up. We got
all our truck down safely, & are now in a measure fixed up, tho' of course
we do not feel settled. We were quite hungry aboard of the boat and had to open
our haversacks. We are now on Goat's Island, but had to land on Cole's Island
with our baggage, and then walk ¾ of a mile to the camp . . . there are too
many sand-fleas and mosquitoes here for comfort."
Despite the
fact that he had his own slave, Monday, with him to do the cooking and washing
up, Gus found less and less to like about soldiering. His letters to his mother
tell of snakes and alligators, flies and ticks, "green, slimy water that
promises malaria," and sand that was "everywhere, in eatables as well
as everything else."
Gus also complained of the
short rations provided every three days for his mess, which included his
brother Adger, his Uncle Joe, and Monday: hard tack, which the men called
"floating batteries," along with 1 ½ oz. sugar, 6 gills of rice, some
hominy and salt, and a fair amount of tough beef. Nearly every letter he wrote
was filled with requests to send him things that would make his life more
comfortable: mosquito "fixin's" [presumably some sort of repellent],
fishhooks, "a little bunch of orange blossoms to perfume my tent, and a
bundle of candy to sweeten my temper," along with warm socks and another
uniform coat.
His most unsoldierly request
was for "a piece of homespun, or old table-cloth, or sheet, or anything in
that line, that will do us for a tablecloth. The table is a little less that 2
yards long and about 3 ½ feet wide. It is very dirty however and unpleasant to
eat off the boards fresh from contact with Monday's hat and our boots,
etc." Apparently, no one told him to keep his feet off the table.
Nevertheless, even such callow
recruits were a welcome solution to the short-handed army. The Confederacy was
entering a new phase of the war, when the harsh realities of warfare required
all citizens, from dirt farmer to aristocrat, to relinquish their idealism and
fight for their own survival. Under such circumstances, even very young
soldiers grew up quickly.
|
|
|
Posted on Wednesday, March 30, 2016 9:27 AM
 "The Camp Kettle" was a four-page newspaper published with on-and-off regularity by members of the 100th Pennsylvania
Volunteer Regiment, known as "The Roundheads" because of their
Calvinist background and their alleged descent from Oliver Cromwell's own
troops.
When they established the little paper, they had set out
their purpose:
We have little room to spare, and none to waste in the
"Camp Kettle," and shall briefly state that it is our intention to
publish it as a daily, or weekly, or occasional paper, just as the exigencies
of the service will permit. It is our intention to cook in it a
"mess" of short paragraphs replete with useful information on a great
many subjects, about which new recruits are supposed to be ignorant. We shall
endeavor to make it a welcome visitor beside the campfire and in the quarters,
a sort of familiar little friend that whispers kind words and friendly advice
to inexperienced men concerning the new position they have assumed, and the new
duties that follow. Everything relating to a soldier's duty, and camp life,
from mounting guard, to cleaning a musket, will be fit ingredient for the
"Kettle." Rules for preserving health and cooking rations will be in
place, and all sorts of questions relating to a soldier's duty, and his wants,
when respectfully asked in writing, over a responsible name, will find an
answer in the next mess that is poured out of the "Kettle."
One hundred fifty years ago,the regiment was camped
on the outskirts of Beaufort, SC, and they were finding that they had
relatively little to do. The conversation was of confrontation to come,
not current skirmishes. Things were so peaceful, in fact, that family members
were able to travel to Beaufort to visit their enlisted relatives. The Camp
Kettle for one week in January carried this announcement:
Mr. James Moffat and Thos. J. McKee, of Lawrence couny,
Pa., are here on a visit to their sons, who are members of company F, Capt.
Cline, of the 100th (Roundhead) regiment. Our friends seem well pleased with
their visit, and are out with the "boys" on picket duty. They
"rough it" right well, and if an opportunity should "happen
round any where loose," we don't doubt that they would "slip up"
within "eye white" distance of the "secesh."
If you want to to learn more about the Roundheads, you
might enjoy the free Kindle edition of A Scratch with the Rebels. And if you're really curious, you can get the original edition with all the pictures, maps, and footnotes, for just $5.00 plus shipping by visiting my website. That's an 80% price reduction from the publisher's rate. |
|
|
Posted on Tuesday, March 29, 2016 8:45 AM
I'll be telling "Roundhead Stories" all this week in honor of the free days for A Scratch with the Rebels. The 100th Pennsylvania Volunteer Regiment was not your typical Civil War unit.
 In January, 1862, the
Roundheads were stationed in and around Beaufort, SC, charged with guarding
the perimeter of the island. For the most part, they were bored with
inactivity, but they had had one bright spot on New Year's Day, when they
successfully captured the Coosaw River Ferry, which gave them access to a
vital Confederate railroad line. On the 15th, they were still
re-telling that story.
General Isaac I. Stevens
ordered Col. Leasure to take his men ten miles across the island from
Beaufort to a spot where a rope ferry across the Coosaw River connected Port
Royal Island to Pocotaligo, a station on the Charleston and Savannah
Railroad.There they were to help storm the enemy fort on the mainland and
then build a "bridge on boats" across the channel. This cover illustration is an early photograph of the Coosaw River crossing being guarded by three Roundheads.
The companies
were split up. Companies E and H remained behind to protect Beaufort; B and C
were sent ahead to Seabrook on the west side of the island to join the 79th
New York; A, G, I, and M formed the storming party; F went ahead to relieve
the 50th Pennsylvania at the crossroads; and D and K were charged with
constructing the bridge. Several gunboats were on hand to fire on the
batteries across from Seabrook and then transport the troops across the
channel to seize the works and capture the munitions.
Lieutenant
William St. G. Elliott of the 79th New York commanded the troops who
challenged the fort. His report indicated that he began to take his men
across the marsh on flatboats at 8:00 A.M.; by 10:30 the rebels had abandoned
the works. James McCaskey's company (Company C) participated in the
embarkation but missed the action because Lt. Elliott determined that the
Roundheads' presence was unnecessary and ordered them not to disembark.
Although one Union soldier died and ten others were wounded in the first
assault, the fighting was over before Company C could get off the boat
The battle of Port Royal
Ferry did not last long; the enemy retreated without firing a shot. The next
day there was only a small exchange of gunfire. Col. Leasure was happy to
report, "The Roundheads were first into the fort, and our flag first
floated over the ramparts of the first stronghold on the mainland of South
Carolina captured from the enemy . . . We are all safe . . . My men behaved
nobly . . . When we returned to the fort to cross the Ferry, one of the
marines who was standing there, remarked we were the coolest set of men he
ever saw."
In fact, this had been only
a minor skirmish, with few, if any, long-range results. The Camp
Kettle dismissed it thus:
Some may ask why, when we
had made a lodgement on the mainland we did not go on? We did not understand
that any advance was intended. The enemy had become insolent and taunted us
in many ways, besides erecting batteries and fortifications along the shore
at various points, and it became necessary to give them a slight rebuke, and
besides our fellows up here in front were "spilin' for a fite" and
it was thought best to give them a "New Years frolic" and an
opportunity of getting accustomed to stand fire at the same time. We had the
frolic, and we stood fire, which is more than can be said by some other
people we saw that day.
|
|
|
Posted on Monday, March 28, 2016 2:02 PM
I'll be telling "Roundhead Stories" all this week in honor of the free days for A Scratch with the Rebels. The 100th Pennsylvania Volunteer Regiment was not your typical Civil War unit.
 Here's a story that almost made it into my upcoming book
about Laura Towne and the Port Royal Experiment. It illustrates an important
characteristic of the 100th Pennsylvania Regiment, subject of "A Scratch with the Rebels." Rev. Solomon Peck was the first of the missionaries to
arrive in Beaufort after the Battle of Port Royal. He set up a schoolroom
in the house to which he had been assigned, and sought his first pupils among
the black street urchins who seemed to be running wild in the city. Within days he managed to meet Colonel Daniel Leasure,
commander of Pennsylvania’s Roundhead Regiment. Peck had heard of a godly
regiment in the area, and he was most curious to see if the rumors were
true. He made his way down Bay Street one morning to the Leverett House,
where the Roundheads had their headquarters. Colonel Leasure welcomed his
arrival and invited him to preach to the regiment. “It’s almost Christmas, and we find ourselves without the
services of a chaplain,” Leasure explained. “Our own Reverend Robert Audley
Browne lies dangerously ill with the swamp fever he contracted at Hilton
Head. Our men have been used to hearing frequent sermons, and they miss
him. Would you be willing to fill in?” “I would be delighted, Colonel. But tell me, are your
Roundheads really as godly as they are reported to be?” “They are, indeed. They come from sturdy
Scotch-Irish and Huguenot stock, Many of them claim direct descent from
the Scotch Covenanters who once fought under Cromwell. They have been
raised in staunchly religious frontier families. They have a strong Presbyterian
faith and almost all believe in the cause of the abolitionists. They believe in
equality and will fight for anyone whose liberty is challenged. They have a
reputation for being the best-behaved regiment in the army. I am
justifiably proud of them.” “Where could we hold a church service?” Peck asked. “Oh, the men have already taken care of that. They
cleaned up the local Presbyterian Church just down the street. It’s not
quite big enough for us all, but my soldiers do not object to a bit of
crowding. After the tight quarters on the transport ships that brought us
here, they adapt easily.” “I look forward to meeting some of them on Sunday.” “You’ll meet all of them,” Colonel Leasure promised. True to his word, Leasure led over nine hundred men to
the local Presbyterian church that morning, overflowing the sanctuary and
overhanging balconies. They prayed fervently, sang enthusiastically, and drank
in the new minister’s words. At the end of the service, Leasure asked for
a moment to speak to his men. “I’m sure we are all grateful to have Reverend Peck among
us. Should we try to hold a second service this afternoon? Let’s see the hands
of everyone who would like to come back around three o’clock.” To a man, they
raised their hands. Peck was overwhelmed. Surely, he thought, with this
kind of fervor, the Northern mission in South Carolina could be a success. |
|
|
Posted on Friday, March 25, 2016 3:35 PM
 On a muddy South Carolina battlefield, a sergeant sat propped up against a hedge and tried to focus on the spot where he thought his leg should be. There was nothing – only the tattered remains of his trousers and a pool of blood that grew ever larger. The whistle of artillery shells had stopped, and the sudden quiet was as jarring as the previous battle noises had been. Shock had deadened the pain, so that all he felt was exhaustion as he closed his eyes. Sgt. James McCaskey had fought and lost his only battle. "From behind a hedge on that battlefield, a young private picked his way through the bodies, following orders to gather up the abandoned weapons and tend to the wounded. Pvt. Augustine T. Smythe was stunned by the mayhem that met his eyes, particularly the sight of a soldier who lay with his leg shot entirely away. He whispered a silent prayer, as was fitting for the son of a Presbyterian minister, that he would never again have to witness such horrors. "The Battle of Secessionville, fought out in the early hours of June 16, 1862, on James Island, South Carolina, brought these two young men together for a single moment. But the events of the Civil War had been drawing them together for almost a year. James and Gus were approximately the same age. Both were first-generation Americans, the sons of Scotch-Irish immigrants to the United States. Both stood firm in their Presbyterian faith, and both believed passionately in the cause of their countries. Both wanted to enlist from the day the first shot was fired at Fort Sumter; both had to spend months persuading their parents to allow them to join the army. They set out for their first battle on the same day – November 7, 1861-- and both missed the action by arriving too late. Both chafed at enforced inaction and longed to get into a real battle. Each of their Scotch-Irish mothers might have warned her son to be careful for what he wished. They were just two soldiers, alike in many ways but different in the one trait that mattered on that battlefield. One was North; the other, South. Sgt. James McCaskey belonged to the 100th Pennsylvania Regiment, known to their comrades as “The Roundheads.” They came from the farms of western Pennsylvania, determined to defend for all men the Calvinist principles they most valued – self-reliance, industriousness, and liberty. Gus Smythe served in the Washington Light Infantry, part of the 24th South Carolina Volunteers. He was a college student from a well-to-do Charleston family and an ardent supporter of the Confederate right to secede from a political union that did not serve the needs of its people. This is the story of how they came to their opposing positions, and how the Battle of Secessionville altered not only their own lives, but the lives of all those who shared their experiences.
Get your free digital copy of A Scratch with the Rebelshere starting Sunday, March 27th at midnight.
And order the full version of the book, complete with endnotes, maps, and illustrations, here for only $5.00 plus shipping. |
|
|
